Torn
by Tanny-san
Summary: abandoned work. ch.6 up! Repost After her mistakes in the final battle on Chikyuu, Pan is taken as a slave and sold to the Prince, the same one who murdered her family. Now she is bonding with him against her will, binding her forever to Vegetasei...
1. The Memories

Author's notes: Hey there, minna....  
  
I'm finally reposting!!!! Some of you may be confused, or not remember me at all... but, you see, I changed my name. It's no longer Kaiyo-henshin, it's (duh) Tanny-san. It comes from my the full Tanoshimi Seiyoku, but, yeah...  
  
Okay. Serious mode.  
  
There have been some serious revisions to this story. The plot line will be the same, but the sentence structure and content is all around way, WAY better than it was. I'm debating whether or not to post this under R and have the lemons that will come later, or post it under R and include a link. I don't want to risk having my fic deleted, but it's so much easier just to post here. If I don't post here, it'll probably be at my site, so don't worry, you'll get to see it anyway.   
  
You'll probably notice that I'm going to change the characters around a bit more. You see, reading through my story, I've come to find how absolutely horribly ooc they all are. Ugh. I *did* write most of this before seeing GT, and ever even meeting Goten, Pan, and Bra so... yeah. They're terribly ooc. But I'm going to use the help of an old review *glomps Chris Marker* to try and even it out some.... but don't worry. We'll still have the same over emotional people, just with peeps of who they really are showing through. The were all raised in different ways in my story, so it's different. But... Okay, I'm going to shut up now. I'm no good with explanations.  
  
Anyway... I would actually be very, very surprised (and flattered) if anyone remembers me. I had a lot of reviews, but I haven't gotten any recently... I feel so bad. I hope that I'll get back up to 508 reviews!!!!!  
  
So, here we go!  
  
-Tanny, aka Kaiyo-henshin   
  
  
§Chapter One, The Memories§  
  
  
All she wanted to do was cry. She was injured horribly from her battles on earth, and even more by her earlier resistance. But no, she wouldn't let these people see her tears. They had already seen to the suffering of her planet, the one she had tried so desperately to save. She closed her eyes as memories of their plan came to mind. How they had planned to rid themselves of the Saiyan race, that had captured her planet when they found her grandfather... How it had failed…  
  
  
  
Pan shot a small ki blast at her father, hoping to distract him as she phased behind him to land a fist square on his back.   
  
  
"Come on dad! If you ever want me to get strong, you can't keep holding back!" She shouted at her father, truly only half frustrated with his tendency to hold back when training her. She was old enough to take it, she wasn't a kid anymore!  
  
  
She had been training as long as she could remember. Most likely since she could walk, but for what she did not yet know.  
  
  
Gohan laughed at his smirking daughter. "You want a real fight, Pan-chan? Is that it?" He teased playfully, his black eyes sparkling with pride.  
  
  
"How else am I going to get any more powerful? I've been training since I can remember, but I'm still not powerful enough to change like you do…" Gohan looked over his 14 year old daughter as she trailed off, and he idly wondered if she was old enough to handle the truth. He had kept it from her since she was a child, always weighing the pros and cons of telling her at certain ages. Perhaps… perhaps if he told her, she would change…  
  
  
He sized his daughter up as she looked at him curiously. If he told her, it was likely she would become extremely irrational and angry… would it be enough for her? He argued with himself for a moment, before seeming to come to a conclusion.  
  
  
'She needs to know… even if she doesn't change. It isn't right for her not to know.' He reasoned, powering down and reaching for his daughter's arm.  
  
  
"Pan, I have something you and I need to talk about." He said solemnly, and she could tell by the serious look on her father's face that he wasn't joking, or trying to distract her. She nodded her head and let him lead her to a near-by lake. The walk took all of twenty minutes, and in that time she could not help but wonder what was troubling her father.   
  
When they finally arrived at the lake, he sat down gently on a stone, and stared at the waters surface for a few moments before Pan interrupted his thoughts.   
  
  
"What is it dad?" He smiled lightly at his daughter, his face still maintaining that look of seriousness. He turned to his daughter before speaking.  
  
  
"Pan, you know of the Saiyan race, and how they have purged and killed on our planet for many years now?" He watched her face grow dark with memories. She had seen the horror of the race, and lost many friends to the Saiyans, ever since they had found their planet. They were brutal killers, and they tortured the people of earth. She had seen women raped, children slaughtered, and men killed for virtually no reason. The invasion of the Saiyan race had sliced the population of earth nearly in half, and the only reason she and her family were still alive was because of the secluded mountain region they lived in. It was unroamed territory for the Saiyans, and they were taking their time taking over the planet.   
  
  
"Yes," She replied, in a voice of ice. There was nothing about the Saiyans that brought a light into her eyes, and the pain that came with the word 'Saiyan' was a pain that always quelled any thoughts of happiness she had previously had.  
  
  
Gohan sighed nervously, deciding to simply be blunt in his explanation. "Pan, you are… you are one of them. Their blood is part of you, as it is part of me and was part of my father. I am half Saiyan, and you are one fourth... They… they are part of us, and we, part of them." He finished quietly. Pan's shock was overly evident on her face, as her eyes simply stared at him, blank. She absorbed the information seemingly calmly, but there is always calm before a storm.  
  
  
She felt the familiar sting of tears at her eyes, and anger took over her thoughts. She was part of this race of monsters? These people, who had murdered almost everyone she loved, who had wreaked havoc on her planet for so many years? The beings who had made her life a hell of no comparison since birth? It couldn't be true; she could not be part of that! She shook her head and clinched her eyes shut, freeing tears that had been held captive in her eyes. She felt her father's comforting arms encircle her, and jumped back from his embrace.  
  
  
Gohan understood. He watched as she covered her ears with her hands, her eyes shut so tightly it was as if she was trying to seal them permanently. It could not be true… It was madness! The very idea that she could be tainted… with their filthy… their blood! It was inside of her!  
  
  
"NO! This isn't be true!! I am not part of them!!! They are MURDERERS!!! Murderers… they are killers! They can't be me! I can't be them!" She screamed, her rage continuing to make her blood run hot, and her eyes seeing only red. Gohan felt her ki jump immensely, and he knew that her anger was getting out of control.   
  
  
"PAN! You must calm down!! You can not let the truth's existence justify your anger! You can't let it control you! Calm down!" His words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Pan continued to power up. Higher and higher, rage blinding every piece of her coherent mind. Her father knew that if she continued at this rate, she might self destruct, and he was desperate to calm her down. His plan seemed to almost backfire… if she couldn't reach the next stage, she would die...   
  
  
Winds began to pick up around her, and she distantly felt the ground beneath her feet collapsing. The lake had turned into a raging sea of blue, relentless and as angry as she was. The earth around her began to quake from the immense and absolute raw power that radiated from her. Gohan could only watch in awe as his daughter's hair began to rise around her head, flickering from a wavy gold to the straight raven of her normal hair. Her eyes flickered a deep blue color, not reaching the solid sea green of her father's when he was in this stage. Her mind was still flashing with anger, seeing the deaths and ruthless purging of her own planet. All the tears and emotions and blood were swimming in a mass of red, and that she was part of what caused all this seemed to anger her the most. The thought that in her own body was the blood of these monsters infuriated her.   
  
  
Gohan managed a sigh of near relief at what was going on. His daughter was ascending to the level of Super Saiyan… her power would not kill her. Her body would be able to handle the immense amount of ki that had just built inside of her. He could not help but notice some differences in the way she looked as compared to how he looked in the same powered up form. Her hair was golden, but fell in waves, rising only slightly as opposed to the spikes that would form in his hair. Her eyes were a deep, pupil-less blue, and her muscle-mass had not increased drastically. He guessed it was because she didn't have as much Saiyan blood in her, as she also had not been born with a tail.  
  
  
Suddenly, Pan released all her energy. Screaming all her rage, earth and water was sent flying above and around her in a massive cyclone. The energy was tremendous, the light blinding. And soon, the red she had been seeing returned to normal, and she dropped from the sky, completely unconscious, landing in her father's arms.  
  
*§*  
  
Pan was shaken out of the memory of when she first went Super Saiyan by a tall, chubby Saiyan. She recognized him as Tounasu, the one who she supposed was in charge of her and the rest of the people aboard the slave ship. She suddenly remembered where she was. Held captive... being taken to an auction of some sort…   
  
"We're almost there, humans," He twisted the word as if it disgusted him. "Get up and stand for inspection!" The large Saiyan bellowed to the other earth girls.  
  
Pan looked around her, disgusted, as the stench of sweat and excrements suddenly assaulted her senses. The hold was dimly lit, and her wrists were held by shackles on the walls. It was like a perverse version of a modern dungeon.  
  
She did as told, still much too weak to resist again. She almost smiled at the thought of the damage she had done earlier, but now was most certainly not the time for her mental pat on the back.  
  
The man went slowly down the line, looking the girls up and down, checking their power levels carefully. Some were strong, and one or two could manage some weak ki-blasts. Those women were most likely warriors like Pan.  
  
The man soon came to her, his three guards behind him. He frowned as he recognized the girl that had taken down at least twenty of his guards, even with all her wounds and broken bones. She now looked completely exhausted. She too must have been one of the fighters.   
  
"Name." Tounasu growled out to her, as he had done to each of the others.  
  
"Son Pan." So, this was the grand-brat of Kakarott.  
  
"Age."  
  
"Nineteen." Not of age yet, eh? That wouldn't be too good for sales…  
  
"Race." Why bother to ask?  
  
Pan grimaced and growled out, "One fourth Saiyan, three fourths human." Her face twisted in obvious dislike for having to admit that. And she noticed some of the other girls stare at her with ill disguised hate and disust.  
  
"Status." He asked disinterestedly, waiting for her response.  
  
"Warrior." She responded, head held high and proud. The four guards had laughed at the other girls who said this, but this time, they did not. They had already seen what Son Pan, as she had called herself, could do…  
  
  
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A.N. Whoa. You guys do not believe how wierded out I am by this. I mean, I wrote *this* crap? *sigh* It was hard revising it, because there were so many errors, and I couldn't help but add in tons of things to help move it along and flow… My style has changed somewhat. Hmmm… I like this though! It's fun fixing all the crap in my fic. It takes forever though… Oh well. I'm going to post this now, so that nobody will kill me…. 


	2. The Faded Solace

A.N. Well, chapter two. Sorry about all this, but editing is seeming to take longer than writing. Gomen ne for the lateness, but it makes for a better story, trust me!  
  
  
Tounasu continued his way down the line of girls, and Pan slumped down again, closing her eyes and being pounded with memories of their plan to attack. It was unfair how she was pained by these… the memories were like a burden still fresh in her mind.  
  
  
  
"Pan." Came her father's comforting voice. Her world was black, and his voice was faint, though she felt herself soon entering the consciousness once again. Her eyes slowly cracked open, feeling heavy with the weight of sleep. The hazy features of her father's face came into her view, soon followed by the cloudy face of her mother.   
  
"Pan honey, I'm so glad you're awake!" Her mother exclaimed, throwing her arms around her daughter. Small tears spilled from her eyes in relief as she held her daughter in her loving embrace.  
  
"What happened dad?" Pan asked meekly, feeling a bit light headed after recovering from her mother's death-grip. Her father gave her a serious look, but she couldn't help but notice the look of a father's fondness and pride in his soft, dark eyes.  
  
"You ascended to the next level, to… Super Saiya-jin. It's the name given to the level of power that you took on." Gohan looked down at his daughter, prepared to comfort her for the sadness and realization that would soon cross her face. Sure enough, Pan's eyes turned dark, and she was suddenly hit with memories of earlier that day.  
  
Pan, you are… you are one of them. Their blood is part of you, as it is part of me and was part of my father. I am half Saiyan, and you are one fourth... They… they are part of us, and we, part of them."*  
  
She bowed her head, the sadness of reality hitting her full force. She was one of the monsters. It was proof; their blood was coursing through her veins. She was part of them.   
  
Her father shook his head and put his hand comfortingly on her shoulder as she pulled her knees to her chest in a protective ball. "Pan, look at me," She slowly looked up to Gohan's face. "You may be part of them physically, but your heart is with us. You and I fight to save earth from the Saiyans, we don't fight with them. You will never truly be one of them Pan. You are with us in your beliefs, and that you are part Saiyan does not change that. Do you understand? We all fight against them… their blood means nothing. You are who you are Pan-chan… but you know what is right and what is wrong. We are fighting for what is right, and they can't change that. Not now, not ever…" He pulled her to him in a warm embrace, Videl watching from the side as this unique exchange took place.  
  
She sighed, watching her husband and her daughter. She knew that she could do little to comfort her daughter; because she and her father held that bond. It was theirs, and only theirs. She rested her hand reassuringly on Gohan's shoulder, and he felt more content.   
  
Gohan soon felt his shirt wet with something foreign, yet new instantly that they were tears. He held Pan tighter, holding her and comforting her. He tears subsided, and she pulled away from her father, turning her face away.  
  
  
"I… I think I understand, dad. I just need some time to think." She sighed as she lay back down on her bed, still exhausted both emotionally and physically. Her mind was on overload, and her body felt it could take no more. Her muscles ached in a way she didn't know they could ache… no doubt from the physical extreme she had reached earlier.  
  
  
"Alright Pan-chan, we'll leave you to rest. But if you need anything, call us, won't you? I know it hasn't been easy, my Panny," said her mother, stroking her hair lightly, "It's never easy to learn something like this. But it will leave, with time… just don't keep it in. We're here for you…"  
Videl trailed off, not knowing what kind of true comfort she could give her daughter. She drew her hand back from the black tresses made messy by the earlier events, and sighed, standing from the bed with Gohan. She glanced back one last time at her daughter as Pan fell back on her mattress, before closing the door softly and clicking the lock.  
  
Pan tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't close her eyes without the nightmares coming back to her. It was like a paradox… perhaps she was not meant to sleep now. It was cruel the way it was for her sometimes.  
  
She sighed in defeat, and opened her eyes again. She could faintly hear the whispering voices of her parents in the next room, seeming to argue quietly about something. Suspicious, since she had never once heard her parent's argue over something in secret, she crept to the door. She had trouble convincing herself she was not eavesdropping, but kept her post, straining her ears to hear past the barriers of the door and walls.  
  
"Gohan, Pan is much too young to know of our plan yet! Aside from that, it will be five years before it begins! That's five years, Gohan, that we can tell her in!" Her mother sounded stressed over something or other. Pan couldn't make sense of anything. Her head was still swirling, yet it sounded as if her parents were keeping her from knowing something. Her mother was babying her again… Pan hated that. She was old enough to know! She wasn't a baby anymore!  
  
"Videl, you know as well as I do that she has to know sooner or later. She's fourteen years old! I think she's old enough to handle it. It's stupid to keep it from her any longer… She's been training so hard all these years without a purpose, if we give her one, she'll become even stronger!"   
  
'What are they talking about? What purpose? What's going on?' Pan thought as she desperately tried to hear more.  
  
Gohan watched as his wife absorbed this with a frown. For years she had defended her child… She did not want Pan a part of this at all, in the first place, but she knew that her daughter would no doubt be needed in the final battle. Her features changed from that of a frown to that of a tired expression, hostile, yet knowing that keeping her daughter from her knowledge of her part would be foolish.  
  
"Fine Gohan. But you will be the one to tell her. I can't do it now..." She finished sadly, sighing as he husband gave her a hug. She turned to watch him leave the room, before collapsing on the couch, burying her face in her arms, allowing herself to fall apart for a few minutes. It was hard to always be strong.  
  
Pan heard the conversation end, and footsteps in the hall. She crawled clumsily back to her bed, relaxing just as the door opened. Her father's voice came heavy and serious, just as it had before he had told her that horrible, horrible news…  
  
"Pan, there is something I need to tell you..."  
  
  
  
  
Pan snapped her eyes open at Tounasu's barking voice.   
  
"Alright, we have now arrived on planet Vegeta! Stand up and go to the line we assign you. From there, follow the instructor. Now lets move, move!" Pan quickly stood, waiting to be told what line to go to. Finally, an assistant came up and pointed to a line of about three or four girls.  
  
  
"Son Pan? Royal." Pan walked quietly to the line. She looked at the few other girls in her line, and the many other girls in every other line. She tried to figure out the difference. She had guessed that her auction would be better than the rest, because of the name. Royal…   
  
"Come on, slaves! You wenches have been selected to be sold as concubines at the Royal Auctions. I am your instructor, Serori. I will be getting you ready for the sale, because as you are now, you're practically worth nothing, although humans don't generally run for too much. You don't tend to… last too long with your Saiya-jin owners…." A Saiyan woman said mysteriously, smirking at the fear openly displayed before her eyes. She motioned for the girls to follow her down a long corridor.  
  
Pan accepted her fate with a nod. 'So I'm to live out my life as a concubine?' She sneered mentally. This was ridiculous. There was no way that she, Pan Son, would waste the rest of her life as a sex slave. The idea was not only disgusting, but absolutely ridiculous. However, she knew to expect something like this. Besides, there would most likely be many chances of escape for her, especially if she were to work her way into being one of the more trusted slaves or some other such nonsense. Her first priority would have to be getting out after she was sold… But perhaps she could get out sooner than that. She opened her senses, looking for any possible chance she could dart off into a corridor, or hide. Yet, though she found many opportunities, her body was still badly broken. Her will, she refused to notice, was slipping.  
  
She looked at the other girls as they tread down what seemed to be endless corridors. They were stronger than the other girls had been. Yet, most were weak emotionally. They took their fate in tears, and seemed to be broken. They gave up. She looked at them through eyes that gave some sympathy, some reprimand. A true warrior never gave up.  
  
They suddenly came to a stop in what seemed to be a medical lab. Serori's cold voice echoed in the space around them, sending a chill through them that immediately caught their attention.  
  
"This is the infirmary. Your wounds will be treated to prepare you for sales," She stated icily, before she stepped away. Several of what could only be alien slaves came up to the girls, each with their own medical supply. Pan watched as the creature in front of her applied creams and ointments to her fresh wounds, the unnaturally cool hands of the purple-skinned creature almost healing in themselves. It painfully set her broken bones before holding a small vibrating machine over where they assumed the break to be, healing them enough for Pan to get around easily. The pain, however, that came with the treatment was excruciating, and she could not help but berate herself as she cried out and allowed two tears to slip down her cheeks.  
  
'Amazing technology for such barbarians. I've made a near-complete recovery… though I still feel as if I'm about to pass out. I suppose leaving us tired is supposed to make escape harder. Clever monsters… They should, really though. Then, when I escape, I can rip that cold bastard woman's head right off her shoulders, after giving her a slow, painful death...' She thought angrily, the pain biting through her. She was brought out of imagining revenge again when she was roughly yanked by the arm by a guard.   
  
'I suppose they really don't want their merchandise running off on them,' she thought dryly, allowing herself to be virtually dragged down the hallway.   
  
  
A.N. Ergh. Done. Thank you so much for reviewing, I love reviews! Hugs and kisses minna!  
  
Have a little heart, this is hard people! Review me please, or I'll annoy you by making you forever wear squeaky boots! Nyah! 


	3. The Waking Reveries, The Meeting

A.N. Holy crap. This had to be the hardest chapter to edit so far. Ugh… See my commentary at the bottom.  
  
  
Pan continued following Serori and the other girls down many corridors, the halls twisting and turning sharply, and at times, the turns catching her off guard. Everything around her seemed to meld perfectly, so when she thought they were at a dead end, they would abruptly turn. Pan tried her best to keep track of the twists and turns the cow was leading them through, but she simply could not do it. It was entirely something of frustration to realize that escape was going to be increasingly more difficult with every turn they rounded.   
  
'I've got to calm down… I was trained far better than this. Trained to examine all possible strategies…' She made a lame attempt at a smile, remembering one of her father's and grandfather's sayings. However, these thoughts of her family led down a now familiar trail of memories that was not at all welcome. Thoughts of failure…  
  
She had trained for many years, and it all had come down to that last battle, and it was she who had failed. She could not rise to the challenge, to the urgency of the situation… she was not strong enough. And she had paid dearly for her failure.  
  
'Mother, father... it's my fault. You're both gone now, because of me, because I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't do it… After all those years, all the pain… I failed you, all of you…'  
  
  
  
She was suddenly back in the nightmare again. The last battle for Chikyuu she knew she would ever fight. They had managed through careful planning to infiltrate the Saiyan station on earth. It was all so perfect, so inconceivably precise…   
  
They had spent years mastering the art of hiding ki, even while using it. The original plan was simple in its brilliance; they would destroy the base before the Saiyans knew what hit them. They would slowly, and with as much stealth as possible, attack the base from the outside in. They had spent years secretly re-wiring from underground and had disabled all alarms, thanks mostly to her father. Everything should have gone right, everyone should be alive and enjoying their freedom…But they were all dead.  
  
She and her father were to attack from the north, her Grandpa Goku from the south, and her Uncle Goten from the east. She would split from her father after the most guarded part of the base had been taken, and go to the western side. But they had slipped somewhere; somehow they had missed a silent alarm. That single missed wire, that one mistake, caused the downfall of the entire mission. Years of careful planning and risking her life underneath the base, all crumbled in that one moment.  
  
She had tripped the alarm, that one alarm, on her way to the west. Without her knowledge her family had been captured, and taken to the west where they had predicted her attack. While she was confidently flying to where she expected the few guards she needed to take out would be, her family was suffering. All because of her idiocy... All her fault…  
  
When she arrived, she was ambushed. She had powered up, and fought harder than she had ever fought in her life, yet they just kept coming. The warriors… the blood was everywhere. Her blood, their blood… the heat of the battle pumped through her, and she felt herself losing control of everything, and she was beginning to be overcome. Hordes of the bastards surrounded her, and as soon as she killed one, two more were there to take its place.   
  
And then there he had been. The one who's face would be forever etched into her memory, the one who had, in a single moment, taken anything and everything she had ever cared for. That Saiyan… the one she could never forget. Lavender hair played into ice blue eyes as he looked coldly down on her family. His set face gave away no emotions, save annoyance and hate, as he eyed her loved ones carefully.  
  
Pan had looked to her father. His body was battered and bloody, his once orange gi covered in his own blood and the grime that had built on him from struggling on the ground. He was bound in a ki lock, as was her uncle, and her grandfather.  
  
Her father's eyes caught hers, and they flew over her straining form. His face was clouded with worry as he called out, "Pan! There is nothing more here that you can do! Go, run while you still can!" Gohan looked at her with pleading eyes, begging her to do what he knew she couldn't. He cried out as he was slapped across the face for his outburst, his already bloodied mouth beginning to ooze bright crimson. There was a fear in his eyes that made Pan want to run… a father fearing for his daughter.  
  
Pan met with a decision that was impossible to make. To leave would mean certain death for her family… She couldn't leave.   
  
'I can't just give up dad… I can't leave you all here to die alone!'  
  
"Dad! I won't give up!" She cried out. She looked desperately within herself, trying to tap into any power she may have missed. Yet, she could find no more power within. She knocked away more of the damn Saiyan beasts, caught off guard by her anger. She couldn't find the power she needed! Why… why wasn't it there? Why!?  
  
Her eyes caught the small glow of energy, and as she looked up, her eyes widened. The immanent doom that rested in the air about her made her body freeze, and her enemy pounded her on. Yet, the blows went unfelt, the anger beginning to boil her blood, and the sorrow beginning to fog her judgement. The scene before her was what could only be described as hell for the girl witnessing it.  
  
The lavender-haired Saiyan power up. His hair turned gold, standing on end and defying gravity in an evil halo about it head. His eyes reflected nothing in an empty green void. Time slowed as his blast began to gather strength in his hands, and his muscles tightened in anticipation for the kill.  
  
She could see it all clearly, and could only watch as her father looked at her, one last time, before he turned to his murderer to wait. Pan's senses went numb and tears flowed from her eyes as she blindly flew toward her family. She was nearly half way there when the Saiyan released his blast, a light blinding her and shoving her back roughly against a wall, collapsing it atop her battered form.   
  
She had fainted for a moment, and when she awoke, she wanted nothing more than to lay there and let it end, to let the darkness engulf her and soothe her heart. She had failed her planet, her family. Everything she loved was gone, and it was her fault. The guilt was eating her alive.   
  
Yet something deep inside her told her to get up, and to fight the darkness. It told her to get up and run, far away, as far away from this forsaken place as she could get.   
  
And she did.   
  
She burst through the fallen rubble, dropping out of her Super form, and flew as fast as her broken body would take her. Towards her home... yes, to mother. She had to get her mother to a safe place, before the Saiyans came for her as well.  
  
There was no true memory of the flight home. There was only the need, the rush, and the prayer that she would get there. She had to save her mother, she had to! There was no option, nothing... It was her last hope, her only link to sanity.  
  
But when she arrived at her home, it was clear that she was too late. The pieces of her hidden home lay about her in tiny shreds, with shards of their possessions strewn about. Pan had only had to walk a few steps before the bloody and disfigured heap that was her mother came into her view. Videl lay limp and lifeless in the mass of rubble that used to be her home.   
  
Shattered. Everything was shattered.  
  
She had knelt to her mother's body, eyes wide and teary. She did not know how, but somehow she had taken her mother, and used what energy she had left to bury it. She left the grave unmarked, and lay down next to it, fully intending to share in her mother's fate. She had let her tears flow freely from her eyes, and fell into sleep, never meaning nor wanting to wake up.  
  
The point of living had been erased. Nothing was left but she, the failure. Nothing was worth it. There was nothing.  
  
But she had awakened. There, in that stinking, disgusting carriage that had brought her to the port. The port where she had done damage, and the port where she was loaded onto a slave ship, to be carried to the home of her enemies.  
  
Pan forgot means of escape; she forgot strategy, as she dwelled on the recent events. The memories were now fresh on her mind, making her bleed, the guilt eating at her gut until she felt it throb beneath the pressure and cramp. She felt her throat clog beyond any hope of emitting a noise, and the physical pain from her mental anguish ate at her very bones. But she would not cry, no, again, here, now. Not like the girls she was walking with. Tears were nothing close to what she felt, for there is a place in emotion where tears can do nothing to heal.   
  
And Son Pan knew better than to let her foes see weakness. She knew she would get her revenge. That strange lavender-haired Saiyan would pay, no matter what the cost to herself. It was the only way she would ever be able to stop the pain...   
  
She lifted her eyes from the ground when she noticed they had stopped again in a very poor-looking wash room. What she presumed to be a shower of some sort looked as though it had not been properly maintained in years. The grime and filth on the floors looked as if it was alive, and Pan asked herself how this could possible be a wash room.  
  
Serori approached the girls, her glare coming down at them as hateful and cruel as ever. "Strip and bathe. Wash beneath the showers, and come out when we tell you. If you refuse to come out, we will come get you," she warned, looking pointedly at the male guard standing around her.  
  
Reluctant at first, Pan did nothing. It was then that Serori made an entirely different threat, "Or if you don't wish to bathe, we always have our guards do the washing for you. They haven't had the chance at a woman in awhile, and would be quite pleased to have such an opportunity," Pan looked at Serori's smirk, noted that the threat was indeed backed by the guards, who seemed to be mesmerized by the female bodies before them, and she quickly did as told.  
  
She discarded her torn gi quietly, securing the small orange piece of cloth to her wrist. She marveled at it being intact, and left it in its place as a reminder of what she had to do.  
  
Standing beneath the showers, she soon felt cold, perfumed water fall on her. She shivered; for the water had to be just above freezing. She looked in front of her at the three bottles, and grabbed one. She looked at the bottle before opening it and sniffing at the contents. She couldn't detect any type of drug, and after seeing a glare from Serori, let her hair down and applied whatever it was to her hair. She should have let her father cut her hair before the battle, but she had stubbornly refused to cut the raven mass, and now it was far beneath her shoulders. She felt the familiar sting at her eyes at the thought of her father, but quickly pushed the tears away. She couldn't break right now... she could break later. Not now.  
  
She cleaned the dirt from her hair as thoroughly as she could, scratching through the knots and snags in it before scrubbing her skin down. Being dirty was never something she particularly cared for, even though she had always been somewhat of a tomboy.  
  
  
The water soon stopped coming down, and she quickly dried herself, careful to use very little ki. She looked around for her clothes, anything to cover herself with, but upon further inspection and distress, found nothing.   
  
She was grabbed by the arm again, and the guard seemed to enjoy dragging her naked form into the next room, which was, thankfully, near by. 'Dende, if you are alive and can hear me, make this next room be the dressing room or something!' The namek must have been alive, for the next room they entered was indeed a dressing room. A few slaves were there, very ready to attend to the girls' needs. She was suddenly dragged over toward the dressing place.   
  
A light purple girl with golden eyes and long, bright blonde hair made her way to Pan, and it seemed to be of the same species as the earlier creatures that had tended to Pan's wounds. All the slaves in the place seemed to be of this same species, with differing shades of blonde hair. The gold-eyed creature looked to be human, though rather short, and with her different coloration and varying physical attributes.  
  
The small creature looked eye to eye with Pan, who was sitting on her knees where she had been thrown to the ground. It smiled brightly before bowing deeply and addressing Pan. "I am Koshimoto. I will be attending your dress for your Presentation at the Royal Auctions." She chirped happily. Pan's curiosity got the best of her as the girl began to take her measurements, and Koshimoto's cheerfulness helped to soothe her aching soul as she blurted her question.  
  
"What race are you?" Pan questioned, watching the slave creature jump about, grabbing various items and inspecting them.  
  
"I am a Tsukaeme," she answered non-chalantly. "We live and die to serve our masters, the Saiyans. I am honored to be able to serve anyone with Saiyan blood, which you must have!" Koshimoto exclaimed, pulling something or other from a closet.   
  
Pan looked at the girl before her, dumbfounded. The little slave reminded her of a puppy, with the way she was so delighted. The only difference was that the girl before her was obviously strictly trained for her purpose.  
  
Glancing around the room, Pan noticed that each Tsukaeme was tending to their girl as though they were a goddess, yet each seemed to be keeping an eye on Pan. 'They can sense my Saiyan lineage? How odd...'  
  
Pan jumped as Koshimoto's voice squealed in delight at finding what she was looking for. She held up the dress for Pan to see.  
  
Her eyes widened at the dress, if it could be called that much. It was red, and was literally held together by two strings running up and down the sides, lacing like a shoe to combine the two pieces of cloth. A teardrop was cut out near the top on the front, and another on the stomach. A long strip of black lace was to be tied around the waste, and the ends were left to hang.  
  
Pan's shock rendered her motionless for a few moments, as she let the fact that she would be sold as a concubine set it. Of course it would be better for them to be able to show of their merchandise...   
  
"Oh! This will look so wonderful on you, mistress! Please, you must put it on! You will fetch far more than any of the other girls with this on," Koshimoto's voice snapped the scowl off Pan's face. She almost smiled at the little Tsukaeme's happiness, and sighed. Pan would have to wear the dress; she had no other choice. She was not going to be shown naked.  
  
She pulled off the slip she had been given right before she was thrown into the room, and with the help of Koshimoto was able to tie it onto herself.  
  
  
"What did I tell you mistress! It fits perfectly, and it makes you look so pretty!"   
  
Pan looked at her image in the mirror, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. She had known that the 'dress' wouldn't cover much, but this? She may as well have chosen to run about naked. The strings that laced through on the sides hadn't pulled tight enough not to leave any revealed flesh and so the skin down her sides was only what could be described as an eyeful. The edge of the damn thing came barely below her rear, and the tight thing pushed her bust up against the cloth, revealing more than she would ever have shown if given the choice. The scrap of material was definitely skin-tight, and did not leave much for the imagination.  
  
The little servant quickly grabbed Pan's hand, and took her to do her hair, squealing the whole way there. She quickly sat Pan down on a small wooden stool, presumably Koshimoto's 'hair and make up' station.  
  
"Don't worry, mistress, I will make your hair as pretty as your dress!" Pan grimaced as Koshimoto began to play with her hair, pulling it this way, or pinning it that way... Pan had never done anything to her hair, except for occasionally cutting it, and the rest of the time it stayed tied tightly in a ponytail. A fighter had no use for beautiful hair, though Pan had always coveted the long, shining hair of her old, lost friends.   
  
She waited patiently for what seemed like an eternity as Koshimoto brushed, fought with, and experimented with her hair. Even Pan had to admit the end result was amazing. Her bangs had been slightly cut, and her hair had been pulled back into a long, loose ponytail. Pieces of her hair fell carelessly around her face, and pan shook her head as she stared at her reflection.  
  
It was almost funny, but she looked remarkably good as a whore.  
  
Pan didn't like this. The way she looked, she would be sold in no time. She was pulled away from the mirror to the and jewelry 'station.' A silver necklace was added to complete the 'ensemble', though the necklace appeared to be rusted and cheap. Probably to save money when the girls were sold. The little Tsukaeme was very pleased with the new Pan.  
  
As soon as Pan gathered her wits again, she turned to the slave girl who was still touching her up. "Tell me, who exactly will be trying to buy me?" Pan asked the girl, hoping to get some answers.  
  
Her golden eyes lit up as she answered, "To the Royal Family and their personal guards, mistress. You shall be auctioned as a concubine, but your buyer may also buy you only for himself. You should be glad you were chosen for these auctions... I'm afraid the others aboard your ship won't have been as lucky," the child's face fell, "They will be sold to anyone who will buy them. More than likely a cold, cruel master whom won't provide for their slave. They won't last very long... they never do... that's why there are always so many customers," then Koshimoto brightened again, "But not you, mistress! You're strong enough to be here, and you'll be living much better with your master. You deserve a good home, and there are some really nice people who'll be bidding on you, too!"   
  
Pan looked into the little Tsukaeme's eyes. The creature had just lied, she could tell. Though her lie was probably more about the 'nice people' who would be trying to buy her. Hn, yes, nice people who just want a sex slave.  
  
"I see," Pan said quietly, offering a tiny smile to the slave girl who had tried to give her comfort. Pan turned to see Serori once again appear, calling all the ready girls to the front. "I must leave you now, thank you for your help, Koshimoto. I hope we'll meet again someday." Koshimoto blushed, and looked down at her feet. Pan reached out of habit to her wrist to where the orange cloth of her Grandpa's gi lay knotted around her wrist, and lent a wish to Kami that she would stay safe. Pan turned away from Koshimoto, walking to Serori, to follow her back to the transport ship.  
  
The ship they were led to this time was cleaner than the one they had been traveling on before, but more cramped. The tight space that the girls squeezed into was barely enough for even the slightest bit of comfort.  
  
Pan guessed that it had been two days since she had been captured, and she had had very little sleep. Even in the cramped room of the tiny ship, she found herself closing her eyes. But the cursed nightmares plagued her sleep and offered no rest, and when she awoke she was more tired than ever.   
  
Once again, it was Serori's voice that had snapped her from her painful dreams. "Get up. We have arrived at the auction house. You will follow me in a line, and you will be presented on the stage. Each person will bid on you; the highest bid will win you over. Now let's move out," she stated calmly, the authority in her voice speaking volumes to the girls in front of her. Pan blinked the sleep from her eyes and woke fully, righting her clothes, and followed the girls out. They passed numerous guards and servants, Serori gaining clearance for them to pass. It seemed to take hours before they were finally let into a glass tunnel. What she saw through the glass seemed so familiar, yet so alien to her, yet the beauty of the place left her jaw hanging slack.  
  
The sky was a surprisingly welcoming shade of dark blue. The sun of the planet burned brightly as an odd blood-red disc in the sky, though the light was as white as the light of Chikyuu. The place she was walking in was a tunnel, and the city she saw through the windows was what she guessed to be the capital of Vegeta-sei.   
  
They had landed, and her life had changed forever.   
  
The city was beautiful, gleaming white and almost pure looking. The stone looked like glowing alabaster, and the architecture was stunning. It was like an ivory city, where towers of the stone stretched towards the sky, and the light played tricks on the eye with shadows and light flashes. It was stunning, and surprising, and absolutely beautiful.  
  
She was led, awe-struck, through this tunnel until they came to a doorway. She looked at it, amazed at the craftsmanship. Pan idly wondered if it was all done by the same war-driven beasts who had taken her home many years ago. The white city, and the door before her made of black marble. The marble was intricately detailed, the cuts very precise and smooth, the designs flawless. What was beyond the doorway amazed her even more.  
  
No palace she had seen on earth even qualified to be compared to this. It seemed that the place in front of her had simply been cut from a huge chunk of white marble, for she could see no crack where column met ceiling, or where walls connected. Complex designs were carved everywhere, telling stories or just being beautiful. Outlined in black stone, the images were brilliantly depicted. Everything was massive, and it seemed as though someone had taken every kind of architecture imaginable and combined it to create one exquisite masterpiece.  
  
They were led out of this grand entrance hall quickly, guided by at least twenty guards to a door that led to a hallway of twists and turns. After walking for what seemed like forever, they were finally led to a small, almost underground looking room. It was there they were stopped, and Serori turned to address the girls.  
  
"Alright, this is it. You will be sold here. Now, I will give you a number, go to the number on the floor that matches yours." A guard handed out the numbers, as Serori chose who would get which. Pan looked down at her number. Two. She went to the number that was engraved on the floor, and after every girl had stepped onto her number, a kind of force field went up around each of them. Surprised and distressed, she lightly punched the barrier as a test, and was met back with the force of her own punch against her body.   
  
  
'A machine that uses your own struggles against you? I should have punched harder...' She thought darkly. At this point, she would rather be dead than put down so low as to be sold as a slave.   
  
She stood in the small square, feeling like a doll being shown off by one collector to another, only she was alive and would be taken out of her package before she was sold again...  
  
She watched as the other girls repeatedly banged on their boxes, probably attempting to knock themselves out. Number one was called up, and Pan took note of the shivers of fear the girl showed. 'Display of weakness to an enemy.' She scolded half-heartedly, remembering one of the things she had learned from experience with the Saiyan warriors on her planet. It was a habit, one she had adopted from Gohan and Videl.   
  
She watched anxiously as the girl ahead of her was sold to a rather large Saiyan guard... Pan was up next. She could not help but gulp as her box suddenly jerked forward, and she was dragged to the prize point. The announcer looked at his notes, looking back toward the crowd and speaking enthusiastically. "We have a special treat for those willing to pay the price," Pan sneered to herself as the announcer continued, "The grand-daughter of the rebel Kakarott. This one fought off and injured at least twenty of the Chikyuu-stationed transport guards, while severely wounded, and it is rumored she was a part of the attack of the base on Chikyuu. You buy her, her punishment will be yours to decide," He ended mysteriously, the perverse meaning not lost on the crowd or Pan. "We start her at 20,000 kahei." Many of the males frowned at the price. Pan guessed that it was very expensive, for the girl before her had sold for 8,000 kahei.  
  
"Twenty-five thousand kahei." A voice answered immediately. A murmur ran through the crowd, though Pan paid it no mind. She did not care to see her buyer. Yet as her ears perked up, she noticed the word 'prince' tossed around quite often. Curious, she peeked up to look, and her breath caught in her throat as first surprise took her, and then, slowly, the rage boiled through her veins.  
  
Pan saw him and knew him immediately. The warrior with lavender hair, the one who had killed her family before her eyes not even days ago. The one who must suffer, whom she had to kill. He had to die.  
  
Yet, the tables were now severely turned. He smirked coldly up at her, and she knew he was going to be the one to hold her life in hand. Her eyes instantly burned with hate. She caught her rising ki. No other voice spoke in the room. No one dare take something away from the Prince that he wanted. Yes, her life was in his hands.  
  
"S-sold to his highness, the Prince for 25,000 kahei." The announcer said nervously, shocked that the Prince himself had bid on the slave. Pan's box floated toward him and he greeted her with cold eyes, and she looked at him with a burning blood lust.  
  
He knew her; she could see it in his eyes. She was the fighter who had helped attack the base... He had seen her after she had dropped out of the same form he had taken on so many times. He smirked at his new prize.  
  
  
"A warrior in a whore's garb," he taunted slowly, "It suits you." She narrowed her eyes at him and scowled angrily as he continued to smirk at her. The bastard. He let his eyes trail up and down her body, lazily eyeing his possession.   
  
Pan wanted to vomit. How dare he, how dare he look at her as if she was prey to be devoured! She squirmed under his gaze, suddenly very aware of her tight dress from Koshimoto, and the womanly attributes it failed to hide. The prince licked his lips, before turning on his heel to walk away. Pan felt the sickness from his stare and the anger from his comment bite her tongue, so she could not speak. Shaking with rage and sorrow at the sheer twisted irony of the situation.  
  
She swallowed as her box began to follow him. She wanted to escape desperately, wanted to rip him up slowly, tooth by tooth, nail by nail, hair by hair, muscle by muscle. She wanted to watch him writhe in pain as she killed him; she wanted to see him suffer so badly he pleaded for death...  
  
...But she couldn't get out of that damn box!   
  
They came to a corridor where three different colors clashed where three different hallways met. Gold, silver, and bronze. She did not look hard at the hallways, but concentrated her gaze on the prince's back, wishing her gaze to burn a hole in him, and then burn him to death.  
  
Finally finding her voice again pan hissed out, ice echoing in her voice, "Where are you taking me?" She growled when he only chuckled at her question.  
  
"First to my father. It is required he know of any new personal slave I have bought, and he must approve. Then, back to my chambers..."Pan felt the sickness grow in her stomach at the implied meaning in his words. But he hadn't said that she was his whore... he had said 'personal slave'... that gave her some hope, right?  
  
'Hn, with the gaze he gave me earlier, I doubt I have much to hope for. As it is, things can't get any worse... Wait, his father? Does he mean...' Pan's eyes snapped wide open as she realized what it meant. The King of Vegeta-sei. Ruler of the bastard Saiyan race. The mastermind behind her life's torture.   
  
'How cruel can one life be,' she thought, 'to cast this fate to anyone...'  
  
  
A.N. Holy shit. Do you *know* how long this chapter took to edit? It's like twice as long as the original, now that I've edited it. And the original was one of the longest chapters... my ass hurts from sitting in this uncomfortable computer chair!  
  
So, please, for the sake of my ass, review! It has suffered for so long in this chair... It deserves some recognition, don't you think?   
  
And thanks to those who have reviewed and sent me emails! I love you all sooooo much! You are the best! You are the reason I continue!  
  
*Huggles*  
  
-Tanny and her aching butt. 


	4. The Beginning

A.N. Ah, another chapter a lot later than I expected to put one out. Be warned that this chapter is much shorter than the previous chapter... so don't jump at me with sporks and spatulas. It'd be appreciated. Oh, and thanks for giving my ass the support it needs to keep on sitting! ^_^  
  
  
disclaimer: Heh... kinda forgot the disclaimer throughout the entire story... again. Anyway, we all know I don't own it. Toriyama-sensei and Toei Animation studies do... damn them.  
  
  
  
Pan forced herself to breathe, her breath having refused to come after her realization. She had to stay calm; she had to quell her fear. It was essential she show no weakness, for she knew she would get no mercy from the man behind this door.   
  
She watched anxiously as Trunks casually knocked on the door, before he turned to Pan, a serious and arrogant look plastered on his face, "You will refer to me as 'My Lord' from now on. Do not speak unless spoken too, and show nothing but the utmost respect towards myself or anyone else in this palace." Pan clenched her teeth at the ground rules laid before her. Murderous bastard.  
  
Yet her anger was immediately dissipated as her blood ran cold when he pushed the door open, and she forgot her breath again as her box began to move. She forced on an emotionless mask, even as her thoughts wandered to whether she would live or not, and what significance the meeting would bring. But there was another emotion with her fear.   
  
Despite the fear overriding it, the anger still remained. An extreme anger, one that could only be called a hellish rage, was the kind the young warrior felt for the Saiyan King. She found herself caught between wanting to leap at the first sight of him; attacking with a vengeance, and wanting to flee scared from the scene.   
  
She caught herself looking toward the floor. She had, at times, imagined what the king would look like, and she was reluctant to look at the monster she had always envisioned. The huge, overbearing, utterly monstrous man that had haunted her dreams for years was, in her opinion, the only look that was suited for the one who had caused her so much sorrow. Her Lord slowly pushed the door open, and Pan's mouth went dry.  
  
"What is it, boy?" Her heart stopped, as the King's voice met her ears. The tone was annoyed and harsh, catching her off guard.  
  
Pan looked up in fear, knowing that it was foolish to keep her head so low in a time of revelation. Yet instead of the feeling of shock she had expected, she found herself almost laughing. This was the King of all Saiyans? Pan felt her sanity slip a notch as her fear of the King's appearance proved to be nearly in vain.  
  
He was so... short. Hell, he was barely taller than she was! However, Pan was wise to keep her humor to herself, even as she nearly forgot whom she was dealing with. Yet, as her gaze traveled to the face of the King, her fear proved not entirely in vain.  
  
  
His features were cold, arrogant, and unreadable. His brow was furrowed in annoyance, and his face held no real expression. His cold gaze met hers, and his eyes seemed to show nothing but intense anger and hate for everything around him. His entire presence was intense and commanding, and Pan felt herself be lowered merely by the gaze he was casting on her. She suddenly felt dirty, though she knew that it should have been the other way around. The Saiyan King was worth nothing more than the dirt beneath her feet, yet his aura seemed to demand it be vice versa.  
  
No wonder he was the King. She forgot her anger entirely and fear took hold of her. Pan instantly tried to calm herself, trying to show as little emotion as possible. But she knew that he could see she was afraid... how could he not? Pan was exhausted and knew she could do little to defend herself if anything were to happen. She watched fearfully as he sniffed the air, walking around her imprisoned form.   
  
  
"She has Saiyan blood... appears to be a quarter," Pan blinked as the Saiyan voiced this information. He could tell by her scent? "Not yet of mating age. How old is she?" The King turned to his son, awaiting an answer.  
  
Pan was confused, to say the least. What was this nonsense he was speaking of?  
  
"Nineteen. I plan to use her as a personal servant for now." Trunks replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Or at least until she is twenty...'   
  
Pan could not help sighing in relief at his announcement. With the way he had eyed her before, she had thought... She shook her head. Her relief was overwhelming, but there was still a sense of foreboding. She could not easily shake the sickening feeling of his stare. Something inside her told her that he wanted her for much more than a personal servant.  
  
The King sneered at his son, "You plan to use her for more than that," he said calmly, "You have only bought two personal slaves in your life, boy. You used both of them as training tools, and once you surpassed them, you didn't bother with them." his eyes narrowed darkly, "Her power level isn't high enough for you to train with. As well as that, your refusal to find a mate would be the only reason you've decided to purchase a personal whore." The king ended, seeming so sure of his son's intentions that he didn't even bother to raise his voice.  
  
"Vegeta!" a warning female voice called, "Leave the boy alone!" Pan turned to see a woman with blue hair glaring at the king, before she turned toward her with a softer gaze in her eyes. "Are you really the grand-daughter of Goku?" The woman asked, an almost pleading tone in her voice.  
  
Pan's eyes widened, her mind racing. At home her parents had often talked of a woman who had been captured when the Saiyans first came to earth... A brilliant scientist who had been close friends of her family. She'd never met her, for the woman was captured years before her birth...   
  
Could this be Bulma? The woman fit the description, and Pan's family had never known what had happened to Bulma after she had been captured. Could it be that she was alive? That she was standing before Pan now? Yet she acted so calm around the King; Vegeta, as she had called him. The woman took Vegeta with a cool ease, yet the Saiyan made Pan shiver with fear and rage under his gaze. Pan watched closely as Vegeta's tail wrapped protectively around the woman's waist.  
  
  
"I... Yes I am Goku's grand-daughter." Pan said warily, after glancing around the room. It was clear that she was expected to answer.  
  
The woman's eyes watered slightly as she cried out, "It's true!" the woman leaned closer to Pan, "How are they? Goku, Gohan? Why, Gohan was only nine when I was taken, and here he had a child..." Bulma's excitement faded as she saw the sad, distant, angry look in Pan's eyes. Being the smart woman she was, Bulma calmed immediately, her gaze turning serious as well.  
  
Pan knew her expression was as black as her thoughts. She spoke with spite, answering coldly, "My family is dead. They were all killed in a battle... The same one that I was captured in." Pan accentuated the word captured, turning her gaze down, her bangs hiding her eyes from sight. She clinched her fists and closed her eyes.  
  
Bulma took in the information slowly. She knew she should have expected it... her friends would have still fought against the Saiyans. Damn, her work would be in vain now... they were all dead. And she was so close to having Chikyuu free again...  
  
Vegeta turned to Pan again, and then looked at his son. The girl's strength, both physical and emotional, he approved of. He could sense her maximum power, as well as her ability to keep her anger in check and hide her emotions. She would do fine, and with Bulma's protection, the Prince would most certainly not be able to use the girl for what he had originally planned. It worked for the King's advantage either way; his son would have to find a mate, and his own mate would be pleased to have her friend's grand-brat around.   
  
"You may keep her." Trunks' attention was snapped immediately to his father. Why was he giving in so easily? "She will sleep in the quarters that adjoin yours. But, if you so much as look at her in hopes of using her before her age, you will be stripped of her and punished, brutally." He added a glare to signify that this threat was not made loosely. The King also threw a glance toward the Queen, to make sure his son got the idea. It was not the King who cared so much that the young girl retain her innocence, as it was the Queen.   
  
Bulma felt her temper rise through the tears that blurred her vision. "Pan-san, tell me, who killed them? Who killed your family!" She demanded, her voice trembling only slightly, holding a promise of death for their murderer.   
  
Many thoughts were running through Pan's head at once. The first being that she would still be trapped with the Prince of Beasts, the second being that he couldn't 'use' her until she 'came of age', or some other nonsense, the third being that the woman before her was indeed Bulma, the fourth being that Bulma was demanding the name of the one who killed Pan's family.   
  
Pan looked to Trunks who looked back at her, and she watched as realization hit him. She felt her lips tilt into a smirk as she watched him, because they both knew that she had him. And this would most likely be the only time she would have him cornered.  
  
He had killed her family. He looked away from her, to the wall, his gaze refusing to be put down, but refusing to meet the gaze of either his mother or Pan.  
  
Pan looked away from 'Her Lord', turning to Bulma before answering in a clear, calm voice, "Your son."   
  
Those two words spoken hit home. Bulma's enraged eyes turned to Trunks, before they calmed into sadness. How disgusting, for her own son to have killed the family she had on Chikyuu. She walked to her son, confronting him with ease, while King Vegeta watched the scene before him play out with a heavy eye.  
  
"Is... is this true?" She asked tentatively, her words and eyes questioning her son, whose gaze had turned from the wall to the floor. He lifted his eyes to his mother, and as Trunks gazed back at his mother, he sighed in defeat.  
  
"Yes. The rebels that attacked our base were executed by me." But how was he to know that those were people his mother knew? He was defending his kingdom; it was not his fault that the foolish people had attacked.  
  
At least now he understood why the hate in his new slave was rooted so deeply. He hadn't killed just her comrades, but her entire family. A deeply seeded rage such as hers would likely not be satisfied until she had her revenge. He understood her feelings, and part of him wanted to sympathize. He pushed away the feeling, for he had been trained all his life to ignore emotions. Aside from that, he knew that sympathizing with humans would only bring hurt... He would never let himself be that unguarded again. The only human he would ever trust would be his mother.  
  
Pan watched as Bulma dried her eyes, being comforted by something unseen, and unheard. The anger and sadness that had radiated off the woman not moments before was replaced by an inner calm.  
  
Bulma looked up towards her son, who towered above her, before her eyes narrowed in a tearful rage yet again, and her palm met his face. The loud sound echoed in the room, and the sound softly faded as Bulma turned and walked away, the faintly pink hand print she left on Trunks face signifying her punishment. She knew it would have no affect on him physically, but that it shamed him to know that he had done something to deserve her wrath.   
  
The Queen turned away and walked from the room, Vegeta following her without so much as a backward glance. Trunks looked back at Pan.  
  
"I'm sorry for your loss," He said, his tone showing that the apology was only for show. His voice was only slightly etched with regret, and Pan's own hand itched to slap him as his mother had done only moments ago. Pan knew that Trunks' pride, as well as his lack of feeling for her loss, allowed no real apology from him. She understood the pride of a fighter, but she did not understand the sheer and absolute iciness of his heart. And with that, it was set in her mind. She would never forgive him.  
  
He looked away from her when no answer came. She had kept her head bent towards the floor, stubbornly silent.  
  
Trunks found himself eyeing his new prize yet again; thinking on the rules his father had set for him. 'I can't so much as look at her the wrong way until she turns twenty. Mother most certainly won't let me use her for work... Hn. What else is she good for?' He thought for a moment as he turned to her to release her from the 'box' she had been in.  
  
"What is your power level?" He asked bluntly, his father's earlier logic coming to mind. Maybe he could use her to train, or at least as a project of some sort to keep himself busy. Pan looked up at the sudden question. He shouldn't even have to guess; he had seen her fighting. But then, her form was different, because of the lack of Saiyan blood in her, so maybe he hadn't recognized it... or perhaps his senses just weren't trained enough to identify her level easily. Her mind reached back for what her father had told her the form was called. It had been only once he'd said it, once, when she was fourteen...  
  
  
"Super Saiyan." she glanced up at him for a reaction before continuing, "However, my form is different, because of the lack of Saiyan blood in me." she ended quickly, spitting the cursed name of the race out as if it were poison. Trunks looked somewhat surprised, but not totally so. He had been able to read her power level in the battle, though she had apparently discovered how to hide it; for he had not been able to sense her ki until she had begun battling the horde attacking her.   
  
He had long been trained into knowing his enemy, reading their power levels and identifying their weaknesses. It was a skill he was especially proud of, and one he had specially developed. He had a sense of what her true power level was before she was in combat, but he had to make sure he wouldn't kill his slave in a spar. After all, she had to live long enough to fulfill her true purpose.  
  
Until the time when he could claim her, he would keep her to train with. He had seen her fight, and what she was capable of; but he also knew what he was able to do. Perhaps he could even train her as a project of sorts, minding that she not become strong enough to escape him... 'But perhaps it's a good idea to build up her... endurance...' he smirked to himself.  
  
His fingers deftly put in the code for release, and Pan immediately fell to her knees before him. She hadn't realized that the machine had been holding her up, for in her weakened condition, she could barely move. She had not slept for so long, and her muscles ached from the demands of the mind controlling them.   
  
She caught herself on her hands, and felt humiliatingly weak and pathetic as she tried to gather the strength to stand. She got slowly to her feet, and Trunks shook his head. It was going to be a long time before they made it to his room if she walked. He walked toward her, unceremoniously tossing her across his back.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" She shouted, having momentarily forgotten her position as the underling.  
  
Trunks sneered coldly as she threw stubborn punch after stubborn punch to his back, annoyed at her weak antics. "If you were to walk along, we'd never get back to my chambers."  
  
Pan narrowed her eyes at the ground. "I'd rather you drag me to the gate of the tenth hell than back to your rooms," she spat icily, quietly. The comment was not lost on Trunks, who did nothing more than smirk in reaction.  
  
Trunks silently cursed his rooms for being so far from the throne room. It wasn't so much the annoyance with the stubborn girl he was carrying, or that she was heavy, rather, it was the way that her breasts pressed against his back, and how if he turned his head at just the right angle, he got a lovely view under her dress.   
  
However, Trunks was not a foolish man. He knew better than to believe he could get away with anything in his home. There were always hidden guards for his protection, as well as for his own parent's spying. If he were to disobey his father, than he would not have the chance at his little prize in the future.   
  
At long last, he came to the door to his quarters. He pushed it open, though he walked too quickly for Pan to get a chance to see his master chamber. He strode quickly over toward a door, opening it to reveal a tiny room that failed to have a light. He wasted little time in dumping Pan on the bed, tossing a blanket over her, before turning around and leaving, heading for a cold shower.   
  
He had to calm himself... 'Just a few more months, a year at most... and then she's mine. This will be easy... Of course, some modifications to her attitude will have to be made before she will be an enjoyable bed mate... but all this is fixed in due time.' His mind knew that to fully have her, he would have to have forgiveness... and he was not one to apologize. She would be tough to break, he knew, but then again...   
  
She had never been broken. But now she was, and always would be, the stubborn blonde bitch...  
  
He idly wondered what in the fourteen hells and three heavens had possessed him to buy the girl who had caused him to be in need of a cold shower. It didn't matter now though, anyway. His father had given him permission to keep her, and now he was stuck with her. Even if he wanted to get rid of her, his father's word made her his for all time. Saiyan laws forbade his permission to be broken.   
  
Sometimes Trunks wanted to piss on the foundation of Saiyan law.   
  
If the girl would not be in his bed... if it came to forcing her, it would not be good. He hated forcing... rape. He was not the most moral man, he knew it to be obvious, but even the harsh, cold hearted Saiyan Prince knew where to draw the line. His code of honor would not let him cross that line.  
  
He sighed absently as he let the cold water hit his body. He knew that his life had suddenly taken a vicious turn from that of many battles and missions. The battle that had killed Pan's family and earned him his slave had probably been the last battle earth would fight against the Saiyans, and that until planet Vegeta found war again, he would remain there. He wondered who had thought of the damn law that bound her to him, and damned them as turned up the water pressure.  
  
  
A.N. Damn. I'm having to change Trunks' personality to be more cold, because I've thought of a new plotbunny for this old story. See if you can catch the hints in this chapter. If you see it, don't tell what it is! Just be proud that you were a good enough reader to catch it.  
  
Again, my editing has nearly doubled the length of this chapter... be proud of you striving author! She works hard! My butt appreciates the support it's been given... but it's been kinda sad lately, because it gets sat on so much during school. So let's cheer up my sore butt, and review! Constructive criticism appreciated!  
  
(and yes, the charas will get more in character as the story continues. Just wait and see!) 


	5. The Shock

A.N. Sorry for the wait! I just got off restrictions! Yay!  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Pan awoke to find herself in a room tinted a deep, royal blue. The entire room was graced with this color; the walls were carved from a stone that shared it's rich color with the the bed she occupied, and, as she soon noticed, with the lush carpet that adorned the floors.   
  
As she looked around the dimly lit room, her mind slowly came back to her from the depths of sleep. All that had happened returned to her, quickly eradicating her observation of her quarters. The battle, her capture, her owner, the King...   
  
She shook her head and slowly got out of the soft warm bed. She noted that the red dress was still on. Disgusted, she looked around for something different and felt immediate relief as she saw some type of dresser. She walked over to it, and opened the drawers.   
  
'What in the Hells...'   
  
She pulled out a full-body suit, inspecting the material curiously. It was made of some sort of... spandex? After a moment of contemplation, she figured that anything was better than the revealing red scrap of cloth, pulled out a suit that appeared to be smaller, and changed into it.  
  
As Pan turned to shut the drawer, she noticed something more bulky to be underneath. She pulled it out and held it close to see what it was, and realized it was some type of armor. The piece was pristine white, and she figured that if she were to get herself into any trouble, she would need some type of protection. She pulled it on over her head, surprised when the armor fit her perfectly- in fact; it almost felt molded to her form.  
  
She tested its flexibility by curling into a ball and springing into the air, punching, kicking, and dodging an unseen adversary with practiced ease. She was glad to find that most of her power had returned to her.   
  
Finding the new clothing efficient, she gently floated herself to the ground, landing with ease. With one more look around the room, she easily noticed there was a lack of exits and windows. Only one visible exit door.   
  
She wondered how long she had been asleep as her stomach growled impatiently. She walked over to the door and debated on whether or not she should open it; Vegeta had said that her quarters would be connected to Trunks'.  
  
However, Saiyan hunger was not to be quelled by the bastard. Pan hesitantly opened it, and hoped the purple-haired ass wouldn't be in his room.   
  
She found her luck repetitive, and idly wondered why her Karma was so bad. She found her adversary standing before a great mahogany chest, wearing a body suit much like the one she was in. Being the way she was, she never noticed how his finely sculpted muscles moved beneath the fabric, nor did she notice the perfection that he seemed to radiate. She never noticed any such thing.   
  
The room around her was of the same marble as the rest of the palace, and all the walls were as decorated with art as previously. A large bed covered in patterned black and gray comforters lay to her right. Book cases of gray and black marble lined two of the walls, filled floor to ceiling with books, scrolls, busts, and statues, and in the center of the room was a large table, which, like the chest, looked to be made of mahogany. Pan guessed that the selection of the earth wood was the Queen's doing.  
  
She watched him as he slipped on black armor, lined with silver. What she guessed to be the royal crest was outlined in silver on the front and back of the chest plate. She stepped softly in his room as the automatic door behind her slid shut.  
  
He had known she would come out eventually. Trunks turned slowly toward her, smirking, laughter in his eyes as her own narrowed.  
  
He eyed her form carelessly. "I see you found something less interesting to change into... and that you are finally awake. You've been sleeping for nearly three days now."   
  
Pan nodded her head yes. 'Three days...'  
  
She couldn't help it when her stomach growled much too loud for her comfort, and she bent over slightly in pain. She hadn't eaten for three days. She glared at him as he laughed haughtily.  
  
"Sounds like the dogs are hungry. I guess I'll need to feed the bitch if I want to keep her healthy..." Pan flinched slightly at his remark, and Trunks continued, "And besides, I want you to be in perfect condition when we spar." Pan looked at him in disgust and curiosity before it clicked in her mind.   
  
For now he wanted a sparring partner. She couldn't help the bare shadow of a smile that crossed her face. Love of the art of fighting was something that had not withered inside of her and died.  
  
She watched as he went to a panel of some kind a pressed a few buttons. In no time, there was food all over the center table. She felt her instincts scream at her when the scent of food touched her nose, and she could not resist the impulse that sent her running to the table, mouth first, devouring food.   
  
Trunks looked at her in amusement. He had watched her lick her lips and sprint to the table, and had noticed that she barely seemed to realize what exactly she was doing. The realization that she couldn't control her natural Saiyan instinct of eternal hunger amused him greatly.   
  
Pan continued to eat until she the ache in her stomach began to lessen, she continued picking at things until she grew tired of it, finally turning to the Prince and confronting the question on her mind.  
  
"My Lord wants to spar." She stated bluntly, giving away no emotion in her voice.  
  
He stared back at her calmly the humor in his form replaced with the same iciness she had met him with before. "Yes, I need a good partner. I have seen what you are capable of, and wish to see your power at its greatest..." He let his eyes trail lazily and obviously over her body before continuing. "Follow me."  
  
Revolted by his glance, Pan hesitated. But her mind knew that the correct decision would be to learn to deal with the sickening perversion of her 'Lord', and to follow him for now.  
  
Trunks led her out of his room and into a silver hallway, Pan following at a small distance. He wondered if she had ever trained in heightened gravity before; she seemed to have no trouble walking on Vegeta, which was a little less than twice the earth's gravity.   
  
They had not walked very far when Trunks stopped at a seemingly unimportant place. He turned to one of the walls and touched it, and moments later it opened for him to reveal a large dome-shaped space. She took her time to look around, noting the only significant things to be an exit on the opposite side of the room and a control panel to the right of the door they had come through.  
  
Trunks wasted no time, immediately beginning his stretching routine. He knew that his smart new prize would get the idea soon, and began to let his ki flow freely through his body, feeling the charge to each muscle.   
  
However, she was hesitant to follow. What if he truly wanted a punching bag, and not a sparring partner? If he caught her in a vulnerable position, he would definitely have the advantage. And she already knew he was stronger than she was, and so it would be an easy win for him. She shook off her fears quickly, knowing that displeasing him would only further worsen her treatment.  
  
The Prince watched as his opponent began to stretch and warm her muscles with ki. She was facing away from him, and he couldn't help but notice his nice view of her rear up in the air as she leaned over. She came up again and bent slowly backward into a backbend, her breasts appealingly pert against her armor and suit. However, his enjoyment was cut short as he remembered his father's warning.  
  
"When do you turn twenty?" He blurted suddenly. He hadn't meant to ask her that, but as long as the question was out and she was in no position to deny him an answer...  
  
She looked at him icily, and answered the question in a tone reflecting her gaze, "Two earth months, twenty earth days," she turned her gaze away from him as his obvious excitement at her answer made her wish she had lied. "Why do you ask?"  
  
He just smirked at her. "No reason," he said shortly, knowing the lack of answer would irritate her. "Let's see just how much you can take. Computer, set gravity at fifty times Vegeta's."   
  
Trunks noted that Pan's body slumped slightly beneath the pressure, and that it became harder for her to stand.   
  
"Attack me." he ordered, taking a defensive stance.   
  
Pan felt the pressure weighing down on her shoulders. Fifty times Vegeta's gravity was much greater than fifty times the earth's. It was hard to stand, much less attack. But she knew it would be far wiser to save her more powerful form for later. She charged her ki and in a split second, she was on him.  
  
The calculating Pan flew at him, careful to watch him as much as she sensed him. She aimed a trick, her fist coming at his face before she instantly moved behind him to land a kick to his back, only to find air. She concentrated and she felt him directly above her, and dodged him as he threw a punch, retaliating by flying upward to catch him in the stomach with her knee. He blocked her easily, spinning to knock her to the ground with a blow to her back.   
  
She landed gracefully on her feet, phasing to his level, catching him by surprise with a blow to his back with her fists. However, on his descent, he disappeared, and she found herself concentrating all her being into locating him. He did not try to hide his ki at all, and he was fairly easy to locate. She smirked at him below her, ready to plant her foot on his head.  
  
She felt a presence behind her even as her eyes still saw him down below her. She moved deftly out of the way of his fists that would have slammed her to the ground, and swung her leg into his gut. It landed there, and he retaliated with punches and kicks of his own, speeding up his attacks. The few blows she had landed moments ago were quickly losing their importance in their match as he landed fist after fist on her. Her poor retaliating kicks were nothing, and she was quickly losing any strikes of her own to his sheer speed.   
  
She was forced into a defensive position, and tried to block his attacks, but found she could only block a few. His speed was unlike anything she had ever seen, and she still got the feeling that he was simply toying with her.   
  
They both landed on the ground, Pan slightly more out of breath from their warm up exercise. They had not fought for twenty minutes and already he was finding her weaknesses... It wasn't her fault that her defensive technique was weak against his high-speed attacks!   
  
'Damn him,' she thought bitterly, 'how can he be so fast?'  
  
He smirked at her, knowing full well what had her agitated. "Let's see what you can really do, Son. Computer, set gravity to two hundred times that of Vegeta."   
  
Pan was forced out of flight to the ground as the gravity pressed down on her. He knew what he was going to force her to do, and angrily, she transformed, bringing back the familiar features of her semi-Super Saiyan form.   
  
Trunks raised an eyebrow at her form. He noticed the differences of her form from his and his father's almost immediately. Instead of the raised, spiked golden hair he had when he powered up, hers was wavy and stuck out only partially. Her eyes were a dark pupil-less blue, much darker than the green his became.   
  
Pan watched as Trunks powered up instantaneously, his lavender hair becoming a spiked gold so familiar to her, his eyes losing their feeling to an endless sea green void. Her father, grandfather, and uncle had all had those same eyes. Amazing how such totally different people could have the same familiar features.  
  
Trunks made the first move, and they fought, energy bursting around them as they struck each other, attacking heatedly. Each concentrated on only the other, learning how they fought and trying to predict the next move. They were nothing but energy moving in a fast-paced dance around the chamber, colliding and crashing, the booms from their blows echoing in the room.   
  
The Prince ended the spar, kicking his more tired opponent towards the ceiling before phasing behind her and slamming her back to the floor. She lay on the floor where she had landed, and he landed not far from her, powering down as he ordered the gravity restored to normal. He watched as her blond hair changed back to its normal strait black, then waited for her to stand.  
  
She pushed herself up slowly, and bowed, as she did after every sparring match. She turned away from him, thinking on what she had just learned. He had beaten her, and she would have to accept that. But she knew that her only option was to become stronger than him, otherwise her fate would be to remain under his control forever. And that was not something she planned to do. The beaten woman wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth before noticing his presence coming up behind her. She turned and looked at him coolly, waiting for him to say whatever it was he had to say.  
  
Her Lord stared directly into her eyes, and nowhere else, surprising her by saying, "You are a skilled fighter; you plan your attacks well, and you can read your opponents easily. However, your defense is weaker than it should be, because your stances are off. You must concentrate on blocking as well as looking for an opening to attack. You look for openings when you should be concentrating on how to turn the speed against me, and your technique is all-around pathetic." she scowled slightly at the insult to her training, but didn't object as he walked behind her. "Show me a stance of defense." She quickly got into the one she practiced her technique with, the basis for her defensive training, and he looked her over. He shook his head once and walked to her, placing his hands on her feet, repositioning them slightly. He ran his hands up her legs, checking how much weight was on each foot. He let his hands glide up her hips, placing them at the right angle.   
  
In truth, he was not trying to get her to react sexually, nor was he taking any pleasure from touching her body. He was a teacher, and she was a student. The Prince was temporarily forgetting her position as a slave and his as a master, though he would later realize the loophole he had found in his deal with his father.  
  
Pan shivered at his touch. It was so strange, having his hands run up and over legs and hips. The feeling was new and frightening... almost... enjoyable. But why?  
  
His hands left her torso and positioned her arms. He was standing behind her, pressed against her in a way that evoked that same unexplained feeling within her. She vaguely wanted to lean back into his hard body, and this confused her. She hated the man behind her with all her being. The things her body felt made her confused and sickened, and she wondered if perhaps he had found a way to drug her.   
  
Pan knew about sex, of course, but had always found the idea rather vulgar and uninteresting, and had never actually experienced or had any desire to experience it. These feelings were new to her, and she didn't know how to describe them. Even as he moved away, the feeling of him stayed against her skin.  
  
Trunks gazed at her pose, glad to see the sloppiness gone. "This time, as I attack you, concentrate on defense, and only keep a slight look out for attack openings. And don't watch me as much, I'm easy enough to sense." Pan snorted as he finished that last sentence. If she wanted to, she could make her own ki invisible to him while she blasted him into oblivion.   
  
Not that he wouldn't be able to dodge it, with that bloody speed of his.  
  
He attacked her fiercely, though more slowly than she really expected. She found this new stance to be much easier to base off, and blocked his attacks more efficiently, even as he increased the speed and power. The thoughts of his hands left her mind as she felt the familiar sense of smugness over having improved her fight style.  
  
As he ended his onslaught and they both completely powered down, she turned hesitantly to him. He was turned away from her, opening a nook in the wall. Pan turned over her current situation in her mind. Her hate for the man before her was as strong as ever, but in order to get a ticket out of this hellhole, she knew she would need to get on the Prince's good side.   
  
"Thank you." She said reluctantly, forced, and angry. He turned away and grabbed a towel, and walked out. She followed him out, not knowing what else to do. However, as she entered the hall, she found no trace of her owner, and the path he had taken to get them to the gravity room was a maze in itself, and she had no idea how to return to her quarters.  
  
"Bastard..." she cursed as she looked around her. He was probably laughing at her now, knowing that she wouldn't be able to find her way back.  
  
Not one to completely give up, the raven haired slave turned down a hall and walked, hoping to see the familiar markings of the Prince's door. She had walked for what seemed like an eternity, completely lost inside of the silver halls.   
  
Taking another blind turn, she found herself in the three hallways that she had seen while going to meet the King of Vegeta.   
  
Her instincts told her to turn back to the silver, for fear of being punished. But she doubted she would ever get another opportunity to freely explore the hallways, so, for once, she let her curiosity guide her. She knew that the silver led to the Prince, and gold led to the King... but where did bronze lead to? She followed the bronze hallway.   
  
Pan found herself mesmerized as she proceeded. The story along the walls was interesting, almost morphing as she stared. The pictures were feminine and flowing, and she soon completely lost track of the turns she took, following the pictures as they wove a story around her, all in shining, polished bronze... She stopped in her tracks and stood, mesmerized, as the beautiful story enveloped her, shaking away all her fears and troubles, and for a moment, she was in heaven, unaware of anything...  
  
And then she felt something slam into her back, knocking her breathless to the floor.  
  
She looked up from her fallen position, and gazed into a pair of familiar onyx eyes.  
  
"Pan!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A.N. Yet another chapter that is twice as long as the original. I know the fighting was boring, but hey, I tried. And those of you who have seen this cliffie before, don't ruin it!!!!   
  
*IMPORTANT*  
I am starting a mailing list. If you want to be notified of updates, please leave your e-mail address inside your review, and tell me you want to be on it! Thanks, and enjoy the fic... and please, remember C&C appreciated! 


	6. The Joy, The News

A.N. Chapter six, because I'm so nice. And I also don't think anyone knows that chapter five is up yet... heh.  
  
When hazy face in front of her clear, Pan thought that she was hallucinating. The fallen girl blinked, rubbed her eyes, and pinched herself, trying to sober her mind, but all to failure, for the person in front of her just simply wouldn't disappear.   
  
Eyes wide with disbelief, she reached out and touched the arm or the man in front of her, praying that her mind truly was playing with her.   
  
Tears welled in her eyes as her and landed on the warm, solid flesh of the man. The sting of the threatening moisture in her eyes did not fall down her cheek, though she was so overwhelmed with joy she could have sobbed for hours on end.  
  
"G-Goten?" she asked cautiously; she had to be sure he was real. If her emotions went wild over visions, she could very well go insane.  
  
The man enveloped her in a giant bear hug, speaking to her in an amazed voice, "Pan! How did you get here? I thought that they had killed you... They went after our home when I was captured... I didn't know..."   
Pan was beyond describable happiness to see him alive, a member of her family alive... and she let him hug her until she felt her lungs burn for breath.  
  
"Goten, air!" she squeaked, gasping once he released her. His eyes reflected happiness, but his face was entirely serious, almost grave as he spoke to her.  
  
"How did you get here?" he asked bluntly.   
  
Pan looked at the floor, partly ashamed, partly for need to gather her thoughts. She had been through so much in such a short amount of time, and she wasn't quite sure how to tell her story. The armor-clad girl took a deep breath, calmly piecing together the events of the past weeks, and repeated everything that had happened since the plan had gone wrong.  
  
Goten, always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, stared at her with sympathy. He smiled at her hopefully as she finished telling him about her plans to use the Prince's training to her advantage.  
  
Pan, however, had a few questions of her own for her Uncle; namely, how had he managed to escape and live? "Goten... how are you alive? How... how can you not be dead," she knew she wanted to cry again as she brought her arms up to hold herself, "how can you be here, now, in the palace?"  
  
Goten thought for a moment, probably forming his own story in his mind, before he spoke to her, "During the battle, Gohan, Dad and I were all captured... we were taken to the center of the base, where they knew that you would try to cross over to the western wing. But when the Prince tried to execute us, he cut my bindings and missed me... and by some stroke of luck I was out of there before the dust cleared," his brow knitted as he thought very hard about the next sentence. "I don't remember anything after that, only I woke up in a slave ship. My story is similar to yours, but having the strength I have, I was bought as a personal bodyguard. It seems stupid they would buy someone with no loyalty to them to protect their princess." he finished bitterly, his expression one of disgust.  
  
"And you don't know where you were before the transport ship?" she asked, knowing that the shock from the near dance with death he had faced must have scattered his memory. Goten sighed tiredly.   
  
"All I remember is waking up on the ship. It brought me here, and a royal guard bought me because he was beginning to lag behind in his reports, and couldn't keep up with the job of being a bodyguard and Foreign Wars commander. So he took the easy way, and assigned me to be the body guard in his place." He shook his head solemnly, "But I can't harm her in any way..." he turned his neck to the side, showing Pan a small scar on his neck. "This device prevents my ki from touching her. It somehow makes it so that anything powered by my energy can't effect her..."   
  
Pan nodded as he spoke, knowing what device he spoke of. Her father had told her about it, how it was important that she try not to show her full powers lest one of those things be implanted in her neck. But she knew that since the Prince only wanted her for sparring at the moment, he wouldn't dare try to put it in her. She was safe for now... though she knew that Goten's weakness would eventually hurt any plans of escape they would come up with.   
  
Pan still couldn't believe that he was alive! He had escaped! But she found herself wondering what real benefit it was to have them both alive. It was almost impossible to do anything to free themselves... and thought Pan would never give up, the situation was more hopeless than any she had ever been in.   
  
She leaned against the wall, and slid down and closed her eyes. For the first time, she felt the true weight of her position. She was a slave, most definitely against her will, to the man who had killed all but one of the people she cared for most in the world. He took a seat next to her, his presence comforting to her.  
  
They sat against the wall next to each other in silence for a few moments, before Pan asked the question that was on both of their minds.  
  
"Goten, what do we do? I mean, it's wonderful to have found you, but what can we do now? I'm not sure whether or not it is an advantage or if it means anything at all to have you here with me... Being alive is good, but I'm not sure there is anything we can do for the earth... Our last plan failed, and if we ever get out of here, it will be years before we could even try again, and that's only if we do the impossible by escaping. I... I feel so... useless..." Pan felt herself sliding into sorrow again. She tried to push it away, but it just kept coming. Reality was hitting her already battered soul, and hard. There was almost nothing she and her Uncle could do for earth. Her failure was brought into a far brighter light now, and though she fought against it, her hopes were being crushed, slowly, one by one.   
  
"In all honesty Pan, I don't know what we can do... We could ask Bulma for her help, but I'm not sure if she would be able to change her 'mate's' mind about this." his voice was unsure, and she got the feeling he had already asked himself these same questions.   
  
As Pan thought on his words, she pushed aside her emotions to ask a question that had been on her mind since her sale.  
  
"Goten... when the Prince brought me in front of King Vegeta, he said that he wouldn't be able to lay a hand on me until I was twenty... until I was 'of age'. What's all this about 'mating'... doesn't that sound a bit primal to you?" she asked curiously, getting a bit disheartened when Goten looked at her with a knowing look in his eyes. It was a look she had seen very rarely on earth; her Uncle was always confused about something or other.  
  
"I'm guessing Gohan didn't explain this to you then, huh?" he asked, and Pan shook her head no. He sighed and continued, "As you know, you are part Saiyan. Your Saiyan genes dominate almost totally over your human ones, despite the fact that the majority of your blood is human. So most of your instincts, physical appearance, and..." he found himself blushing a bit, "bodily functions come from that part of you. While you have a human menstrual cycle, you haven't truly gone through puberty and matured until you are twenty... And when that happens, your human cycle will become irrelevant, and you will continue to live on the Saiyan cycles of heat during particular times of the year when different Saiyan moons are rising.  
  
"However, on your twentieth birthday, not an hour after your birth, all your hormones will... just kind of snap at once, and you won't be able to control you... impulses." He smiled nostalgically, "Why do you think that your parents got married when they were twenty?"   
  
Slightly disturbed at Goten's insinuation, Pan felt her cheeks heat. Then the shock of this new settled in on her, and the all around strangeness of this new information was mind boggling. And it seemed highly unfair, for in roughly three months, she was going to 'snap', as Goten so eloquently put it.   
  
Apparently she would be some hormone-driven, sex-craving female, ready to act on the 'impulses' she couldn't resist. This scared her, not only because she hadn't trained for it, but also because it wasn't something that she had ever seen happen, and it wasn't normal.  
  
"Will I still be here in three months?" she asked, in a frightened voice as more realizations hit her already shocked mind.  
  
"Probably, why do you ask?" he responded, not quite getting the idea. Pan turned to him; worry and shock still on her face. She had never been trained to handle news like this.   
  
"Goten, I'm twenty in less than three months! Who will I go after then? If I am to be some hormone-crazed female, who will my hormones make me go after? My only choices would be the prince and... and..." she trailed off, exasperated, as realization dawned on Goten.  
  
Pan was shaking her head, this new problem coming down on her hard, and she cursed mentally. That was why the Prince had wanted to know when she would turn... damn him!  
  
"Pan, you don't mean that you might lust after the prince, do you?" he asked, trying to confirm the thought that had filtered into his brain. She looked across to the opposite wall, horror written on her face.  
  
"I'm afraid... that I... I might..." she couldn't even bring herself to say it, "but... I may not, because I hate him so much." she finished, the contempt she felt for her owner rushing through her veins again, lying in wait to boil her blood.  
  
Goten knew the hate she felt. The bastard had killed his brother and his father, and had tried to kill him. "Just keep hating him, Pan. He will know when you turn twenty, almost at the exact hour. He will be able to smell you. You're probably in a room that leads only into his, am I right?"   
  
"Yes. But how did you know that I was in a room off his quarters?" she asked, looking at him quizzically. He gave her a small smile.  
  
"If I'm supposed to protect the Princess, I have to stay in a room right off of hers. There is another room off of hers where her personal servant stays, and I figured that you would stay somewhere similar." As he finished, a female voice called a name and his head snapped to attention. He frowned before he turned to the niece he had only just been reunited with. "Pan, I have to go. But we have to meet again soon... we'll have to figure out what we should do here... we need to do something about your coming of age as well... Meet me in the entrance hall, where all the royal wings meet, alright?" she nodded at him, and with that, he took off down the hall. Pan began her way back to where she hopped she would find the three royal halls again.  
  
She couldn't believe that he was alive. At least now she wouldn't have to live this nightmare alone...  
  
She thought back to all they had talked about, and what he had said about her age. She slowed to a walk as she came upon the royal halls again. What would she do? She knew that she would continue to hate him, but she didn't know if she would be able to control herself. If her parents had married at twenty because her father, the ever cool, calm Gohan, couldn't control himself, then where did that leave her? She was naturally impulsive, if somewhat cautious... and the bloody Prince would be the only male she would be exposed to.   
  
Grudgingly admitted, he was attractive, even if he was, quite literally, the Spawn of Satan. She had never thought of him in a sexual way... she had known and hated him for all of three or four days. But he wasn't painful to look at. What if... what if she did end up wanting him? She shuddered violently and dismissed the thought from mind as she spotted one of the purple-skinned Tsukaeme.   
  
Pan approached the small creature, and told it her position as Trunks' slave, and that she was lost. It eagerly led her to the Prince's quarters, and she gave it a small smile and thanks before opening the door to his room.  
  
She let the door open, and walked directly to the door that led to her room. She hesitated at the door, remembering that her own room was not equipped with a bath. And after her fight, she knew that was something she needed.  
  
Frustrated, she searched his room for another door, and upon finding one, opened it. The bathroom, like everything else, was huge and marble, and she silently marveled at the sheer size of the bath in the center. She decided to risk the bath; the Prince couldn't touch her now anyway, or even look at her inappropriately, so she stripped down fearlessly, and played with the controls until she got the hot water activated. As the bath-pool filled with warm, soothing water, she let herself lean back into the water, and felt herself completely relax for the first time in a long time.   
  
Being here was definitely not going to be an easy thing anymore.  
  
A.N. Ah, this chapter was a lot easier to edit. I'm changing Goten's character to be less serious, and I changed some of the situations to be more believable, and less just kind of slapped together to hopefully make my story make sense. I hope you enjoyed this chapter... Some of these chapters are kind of boring, so please bear with me!  
  
Don't forget, I'm starting a Mailing List, and if you want to be on it, leave your e-mail addy in your review! Thanks!  
  
-Tanny 


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